The Masks Come Off
by sleepwell
Summary: Damon and Stefan meet back at the boarding house after the masquerade party.  What really happened that night will affect both the brothers and those around them.  Season Two, Episode 7 spoilers.  Slash.  Vamcest.
1. The Brothers

_I'm sure I'm not the only one who has written something based on Season Two's episode 7: Masquerade_. _I'd love to read others' fanfic on Damon/Stefan if anyone knows of anything out there!_ Slash Warning. Vamcest. _This will only be a couple of chapters long so let me know what you think. _

* * *

Her voice continued to ring in his ears. Calling after him. Begging him. Not to be left. Left alone. Her voice breaking, pleading. Telling him that he needed her. And although her reference had been to the situation with Elena, her cries rang true. Because he knew he _did_ need her, always had. It tormented him to think he might always need her, that he might always feel this pain, this torture. He climbed the stairs, his footsteps heavy. His resolve firm.

A century and a half of waiting, longing, hoping. Only to discover that she had never truly wanted him. That it had always been Stefan. And in the darkest recesses of his heart, he had known. Known all along, that if pushed, if forced to choose, she would cast her destiny with his brother's. That she would choose Stefan. The pain this caused was all encompassing, excruciating. He wanted to rid himself of it, to flip that switch that held him tenuously to his humanity. He walked away from the tomb slowly into the night.

* * *

He understood. Truly. He got it. She loved him. But it was too much. Too much to ask of a mortal. This never-ending life was overwhelming. The dangers of his world too real. And she felt the need to protect those she loved at all costs. Even if it meant giving up on _them_. Letting go of their love in order to save those around her. He had wanted to tell her that it wasn't that simple. That the other girl would not just let things be. That other forces were at play, out of his control. And out of Elena's. But he hadn't. He let her walk away. And then he turned and left the masquerade party and disappeared into the night.

* * *

The boarding house was gloomy, quiet, looming in its emptiness. The vampire sank into a couch and stared into the tall, crackling flames. His thoughts dark, unsettled. He felt like his skin was crawling. He fought the urge to move. Sat with his musings, his unhappiness. Didn't try to fight the waves of bitterness that washed over him as he re-played the scene in the tomb over and over in his mind.

A crystal cut lowball was placed in his hand. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw his brother turning to pour himself a drink. "Where's Elena?" he asked flatly. "Is she OK?" Silence was his response. The younger brother dropped onto the couch beside Damon. "I'm thinking of leaving. This trying to have a normal life is failing miserably." Damon snorted. "Yeah, right. This thing isn't over by a long shot, buddy boy. And you have to be around. To protect Elena. And her posse. But, apparently, this town is only big enough for one Salvatore brother and it isn't me." The two brothers drank in silence, lost in their own darkness.

"How do you always get everything and everyone you want?" Damon snarled after what seemed liked hours. The vicious tone and angry words startled Stefan. Not that he wasn't used to his brother's quickly shifting moods. It was just that tonight Damon had seemed different, more pensive that Stefan had seen him in a long time. He recognized that it must have been difficult for his older sibling. To lock up the woman he had loved so hard and for so long. Despite her failings. Her games and her wickedness. Damon and Katherine were a lot alike. They always ended up hurting the very people they professed to love.

"I don't," he answered simply. Damon snorted derisively. "Yeah, you do. And it's fucking annoying. To those of us who don't. Get what we want. And who we want. _I'm_ the one who stayed loyal to Katherine all these years. Defended her. To everyone, including you. And, what does she do? Throws it in my face. Denounces everything that ever was between us. Bitch." His breathing was rapid, his fists clenching and unclenching. Damon leapt to his feet. Began pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. Stefan watched warily from his place on the couch. Debated as to how best diffuse the escalating vampire.

"Whatever" he tried, "She's where she belongs now. Away from us and away from Elena." Damon hissed. Sped quickly to glower into Stefan's face. "You are so naïve. She is _not_ going to stay gone. I can feel it. And you and I are screwed. Screwed by the woman we loved. She has destroyed both our lives. Will continue to destroy our lives. You will _never_ be with Elena forever. We can never be with humans again in the way you want to be. It's not possible. And the sooner you get that into your head, the better off you'll be."

Stefan rose in a blur and tossed his brother across the room. Damon barely missed landing in the fireplace, crashing instead into a heavily framed picture. Wincing, he cracked his neck. Stefan was in his face before he could move, fangs bared, dead eyes glaring. "Shut the fuck up. I love her and she loves me. And it _will_ work. We just need time. And I'm sick of your negativity. I thought we were beginning to get back to what we had before. But every time you start to show some caring, some concern for the humans we've surrounded ourselves with, you do this. You pull back. Turn it off. It's getting old, Damon."

Damon began laughing, a cruel, mocking sound. "Oh, and you're so _perfect_ my dear brother. I forgot who I was talking to, Saint Salvatore. Good luck with that. I, however, foresee many deaths and much suffering in your distant future. As the result of your interference in the lives of mere mortals. So, I hope your conscience is OK with that. I'm fucking out of here." Damon pushed Stefan harshly away and turned to walk out of the room. He was halfway up the stairs when he heard it. The muted sounds of his brother crying. Softly. Damon could practically hear the tears rolling down Stefan's cheeks. Damon's step faltered. He sighed. Stopped. Lowered his head. Turned and descended. Returned to his brother. Like he always did.


	2. The Brothers Bond

_OK. Not two chapters! Would you believe three? Thanks for reading. More reviews please!_

* * *

Stefan didn't look up as Damon re-entered the cavernous room. His younger brother sat slumped on the floor, back against the couch, knees bent, head in hands. Damon approached slowly, carefully, as one would advance on a wounded animal. He knew that his brother was aware of his presence. Stefan continued to cry, tears streaming down his face unimpeded. Damon, for once, was at a loss.

He sat down beside Stefan. Cast his mind back to the time they had both been human. He had loved his younger brother. Looked out for him. Protected him. Had fun with him. And then along came Katherine. Femme fatale. She had played them perfectly, appealing to his base nature and Damon's sensitivities. Turned them. Drove them apart. Created years of hatred, loneliness, mindless drifting and suffering. From which the brothers had finally begun to recover. Until she reappeared.

And now, as immortals, another love triangle had been created. Inadvertently. But one that, once again, threatened to pull the brothers apart. Damon wasn't sure that he and Stefan could survive another rift. Another woman coming between them.

He placed his arm around Stefan's shoulders and pulled. Stefan came easily, leaning into Damon's solid frame. Sighing, Stefan rested his head on Damon's shoulder. His tears gradually abated. The two remained still, hypnotized by the flames, lost in their own dark thoughts.

Moving slightly, Stefan nuzzled Damon's neck. The affectionate gesture momentarily caught Damon off guard. He laughed, responded by turning his own head to place a kiss on Stefan's forehead. Left his lips pressed on the cool flesh. Reaching up, he began to stroke his brother's hair, gently, lightly. Damon was consumed by a desire to comfort his brother, to make his pain disappear. He didn't want Stefan becoming bitter, angry. The way he, Damon, had responded to rejection from the woman he loved. He knew that Elena would come back to Stefan. She always did. Always would. But right now, Stefan didn't know that. His world had ended. And Damon wanted to make it right.

* * *

This felt so good. Being with his brother. His older brother. Who for so long had either avoided him or hated him to his face. Either way, Stefan had missed him. Needed him. The fingers in his hair became more insistent. The pressure increased. There was urgency in Damon's touch that hadn't been there earlier. Stefan responded. Lifted his head. Moved to come face to face with Damon. Studied the vampire before him. Those beautiful features. Normally arranged in a studied expression of mockery, disdain. But now the mask was stripped. Damon's eyes were soft. Open, vulnerable. Those blue pools were watching Stefan with curiosity, affection and something else. Something that Stefan felt himself responding to.

With no forethought, he leaned in and kissed Damon on the lips. Softly at first. Hesitantly. Unsure of what he was doing, what he was _thinking_. After all, this was _Damon. _Crazy. Wild. Unpredictable Damon. His older brother. Who had hated him for so long. Who he, Stefan, had continued to love throughout the years. Despite everything. And now he had crossed a line. A line that couldn't be erased, undrawn. Continued to kiss Damon- unable, unwilling to break contact with those lips-with the man he had spent decades sparring with, avoiding. And it had come down to this. This moment in time. This kiss that would shape the remainder of their eternity together.

Felt his brother pull back. Opened his eyes. The other vampire's fangs were evident as Damon hissed, retracting his lips. His eyes were no longer human. Stefan gasped as Damon wrapped his hands around Stefan's throat and squeezed.


	3. Together

_This story is taking longer to end than I anticipated! This chapter is short but hopefully that's OK. _

_

* * *

_Even as his fingers closed around the strong neck, Damon fought to retract his fangs. Hurting Stefan had not been in the plan. Making his younger brother feel safe, sheltered. That had been his intent. He had longed to remove all the pain from his brother's eyes.

And then Stefan had kissed him. No. Damon forced himself to be honest. 'Brotherly protection' had vacated the room the instant he felt the pressure of Stefan's body against his. Desire quickly masked affection. And _then_ the kiss. Not a brotherly, 'I care about you' kiss. Not at all. Stefan's kiss had been tender, warm, intimate. As one would kiss a lover.

And Damon had lost it. Because he had liked it. Wanted it. Wanted Stefan. And that couldn't be. He understood that they both were hurting, aching for what couldn't be. But this. The rising passion he was experiencing was unexpected, unbidden. And it seemed he wasn't alone in this response. Stefan's eyes, so close to his, were wide, pupils blown. His body trembling.

Damon slowly relaxed the stranglehold he had placed on his brother. His hands remained around Stefan's neck. Unwilling to break contact. Stefan responded, tilting his head back, cradling into Damon's waiting fingers. Exposing his long, slender neck. Damon felt his recently withdrawn fangs straining to break through. Desire swept through him once again.

Lowered his head to the waiting flesh. Pressed his lips against pale skin. Involuntarily groaned, the initial contact pulling the sound from deep within. Trailed his lips along to reach the jutting collarbone. Bit down lightly. Retraced the path he had drawn with kisses on Stefan's neck. Towards Stefan's waiting mouth.

* * *

_Oh my god_. Those hands. That had moved from his neck. That were roaming urgently, pressing all along Stefan's torso. His back. His chest. Knowing where to pause, stroke and move on. Damon's touch was demanding, firm, fast. And those lips. Kissing expertly, tongue prodding, probing-drawing moans. And when Damon's lips weren't on his mouth, they were everywhere else. Stefan was losing his mind. Damon touching him. Caressing him. Demanding Stefan's kiss in return.

Stefan pulled Damon forward. Roughly. Landed on his back. With Damon on top. Pulled Damon's head down. Deepened their kiss. Slowed it down. Softened his lips. Smiled slightly at the resulting strangled sound emitting from his brother's throat. Ran his fingers through that glorious hair he'd always envied. Damon began to move, his hips rocking slowly, rhythmically. Stefan reached under Damon's shirt. Stroked his brother's back. Felt the shiver run through him. Stefan could feel the heat building, their normally cool body temperatures rising.

This languorous, ardent pace was torturous. Heavenly. Amazing. Time was suspended. All there was, was _this_. Memories of the night's previous events eradicated. All thoughts of Elena gone. All that existed now was Damon. And what was about to happen. What he wanted to happen. What he _needed_ to have happen.


	4. Transported

_Thanks for reading, as always. Hope it's OK._

* * *

Damon was transported. He felt fucking _fantastic_. He hadn't experienced this rush of emotion in a _very_ long time. The power surging through him was, for once, not the power of anger or thirst. It _was_ a craving. But a craving infused with the certainty that everything was as it should be. That the world was spinning properly on its axis. And he didn't want this sensation, this transcendent moment to end.

Placing a hand on either side of his brother's head, he raised himself up. Gazed down upon that familiar, glorious face. Stefan's eyes were shut. Eyelashes fluttering as he fought to control his ragged breathing. Chest rising and falling rapidly. Damon placed a hand on Stefan's sternum, pressing lightly. Stefan's eyes opened, struggled to focus. He smiled up at Damon. Not the usual slightly aloof, polite smile seen by most. No. This was the shy, vulnerable, private smile that gave a glimpse into the reserved boy's soul. Damon's own breath hitched as the smile spread to Stefan's eyes.

His lips crashed down, sweeping them both away. Shirts were thrown off hastily, clumsily, with the need to touch skin to skin. Damon rolled, pulling Stefan on top. They were lying close to the fireplace now and although the flames were dying, the embers cast shadows on the hard, lean bodies. The tattoo on Stefan's arm glowed, rippled as he ran his fingers through Damon's hair, down his neck, traced the length of Damon's upper body. Paused at his destination. The brothers continued to look into each others eyes, wondering, daring. Damon gave that half smile of his and nodded.

Stefan quickly, efficiently undid the button of Damon's pants. Slid his hand in. Damon extended his neck. Pressed his head back into the hard floor. The guttural sound forced from him at Stefan's touch served only to encourage. Stefan's hand surrounded him, engulfed him. Damon gasped and thrust up into that waiting, all encompassing grasp.

Stefan's fingers closed, encircling Damon. Began to stroke. Slowly at first. Somewhat cautiously. Damon's hips responded. His movements becoming faster, harder, seeking pressure. Stefan countered. His wrist twisting, fingers matching Damon's speed. Damon tried to think. Struggled to process what was happening. He couldn't. Gave in to the sensations coursing through his body. Could only hope that Stefan was OK. That Stefan was feeling as amazing as he, Damon, did.

Damon pulled to the right. Stefan came with him easily. Onto their sides. He broke contact with Stefan's hand, removing it from his pants. Pulled again. Stefan was once again lying under him. Panting quietly. Aroused. Kissing Damon urgently. "Come on" he uttered. Damon spread the legs beneath him with his own. Rose to a crouch. Fumbled with the resistant button. Unzipped quickly. Stefan arched his hips. With a quick motion, Damon pulled the impeding lower garments off. Stared down at the beautiful, naked body glistening in the half-light. Panicked. "Now what?" he thought to himself.

Stefan sensed the hesitation in his brother. Misread it. "It's OK," he whispered "I'm OK. Don't' stop. I want this. So, don't stop, please." Damon growled. Shook his head side to side. "Yeah. Well. Contrary to popular opinion, I'm not as sexually experimental or, at least, as well versed in this _particular_ form of sex as one might imagine. So. I'm at a bit of a loss here. I get the gist of what's supposed to happen but…"

"Shut it," laughed Stefan, pulling his brother down. "Just follow my lead." And Damon did.


	5. Eternity Must Go On

Finally! The last chapter. Thanks to the few but kind reviewers and the many others who have been reading along. Hopefully the last few shows of the season will give me some new slash writing ideas! In the meantime, I'll just keep reading...

* * *

A century and a half. Nearly one hundred and fifty years. Since he'd been alive. Felt alive. This alive. Every pore of his being breathed. And he was definitely feeling things. Physically. Emotionally. The heightened senses of vampires had kicked in. Pulling his human qualities to the brink and over the edge. This couldn't be happening. With Damon. The two of them. But it _was_ happening. And it was the best.

Sex with humans was good. Sometimes even better than good. But humans were fragile. Always the need for restraint. To not crush them. To avoid breaking ribs or damaging delicate body parts. To prevent from killing them. Not simply because of their physical frailty. But because of their scent. Humans sexually aroused. Blood surging, engorging. It was almost impossible not to succumb to the fangs fighting to feed. To bite. To suck. To surrender to the vampire nature.

Stefan had learned to pull back. But not at first. Control had come slowly. Not always easily. And now, with Elena. Sex. The constant battle between his love for her and his lust for her humanness. Always needing to hold back. Ever on his guard. Ever careful. Because he _did_ love her. Didn't want to hurt her. Physically. But, in his self-control, he knew she felt he was withholding part of himself. And he was. Because he had to. And it was hard. And it took its toll.

But _vampire_ sex? This was wild. Crazy. Otherworldly. Extreme. Almost indescribable. No worries. No cares. Just pleasure. Pure fucking fantastic over the top pleasure. Physically and psychologically. His human body. Coupled with vampire sensations. Vampire physicality. Pure bliss.

Damon over him, on him, under him, in him. Hard. Pounding. Always moving. Always touching. His mouth. His tongue. His hands. Those fingers. That knew exactly how to stroke, tease, pull him along. Damon may have had pedestrian sexual experiences but he certainly had perfected what he knew. And he was using all he had. And Stefan responded. He lost himself in Damon and in the night.

* * *

Damon wondered. How had this not happened before? How had he not known that this would be _it_? That being with his brother could do all this? Could fade the world and all its disappointments? That the pain of Katherine could dissipate, vanish even? That the hurt of Elena could be smoothed, eased? That jealousy, envy could be exposed and disposed of so easily? Being with his brother was like, well, like nothing else. It was everything and all things. Stefan was everything.

Hours gone. The room casting pre-dawn shadows. The two now sequestered in Stefan's room. Sheets and blankets scattered over the bed and floor. The brothers exhausted but unwilling to separate. Tangled together. Bruises forming on pale, perfect skin. Muscles aching. Lips swollen. Minds at rest. At peace.

Loath to face the day, reality. Both realizing that a conversation had to occur. Words had to define what the night had brought. What the masks coming off had revealed. Left unspoken, their thoughts would redefine, twist, and change what had transpired between them. And neither wanted to go back. Back to the hatred, the hurt. This new feeling of love, belonging, sharing. _This_ was what was important. Two, bonded in a world not designed for their kind, was better than single-handedly facing the enemy. So much better than fighting immortality alone.

Damon forced himself into a sitting position. Leaned back against the headboard. Glanced sideways at his brother. Who was lying on his side. Facing away from Damon. Damon sighed. Loudly. Fought to organize his thoughts. To lend some semblance of logic to the situation. That could be put into words. Failed. Sighed. Rolled his eyes. Sighed again. Wished he still smoked.

"Stop sighing" muttered the other vampire into the pillow, "It's irritating. Just say it."

"What am I supposed to be saying? That you're still hot in the harsh morning light? That your post coital pillow talk is 'all that'? Or how about, thanks for the mind-blowing sex but I'm not looking for anything more than a hook up? Or, I'll call you? Or…."

Stefan interrupted, "Very funny. No. Just say what happened last night. _Why_ it happened. That last night was the result of us both being in a very bad place. And that we needed each other. To help each other get through it. That our relationship is, um, complex. That we love each other, even while we hate each other. That Katherine and Elena further complicate us. That being a vampire fucking sucks at times and that it's reassuring to be with someone who understands that and knows what it's like. That our life is exhausting and often seems futile. And that I needed you because you get that."

"But then also say that it can't happen again. That we have to move forward, put this behind us. That we can let this time pull us closer together, allow us to be better. Better at being brothers. That you can just let things be sometimes. And now trust that I have your back. That I care about you. Always." Stefan rolled over to face Damon. "Just say that."

Damon sighed, deeply, a long, drawn out, out loud sigh. Glanced quickly down at Stefan. Laughed, pulling a face. "Sorry. Couldn't help it. OK. I'll say all that. But can I _also_ say that was the most fucking amazing sex I have ever had? And that this business about it never happening again seems a little extreme. Seriously. What harm could possibly come of the occasional tryst? A few do-overs?" Stefan reached over and punched Damon on the arm, playfully but with some force. "Ow" laughed Damon, I'm just _saying_."


End file.
